


The Healer

by anwenwrites



Category: Original Work
Genre: College, Drama & Romance, Dysfunctional Family, Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anwenwrites/pseuds/anwenwrites
Summary: After years of growing up in a less-than-ideal family system, Poppy Shields is anxious to establish deep connections with new people when she goes away to college. On her first day, she meets Jeremy Hansen, a sweet, protective boy who helps her through a panic attack. The two form a rapid bond and start telling each other everything, believing they were brought together by fate. When Jeremy experiences increasingly intense anxiety attacks himself, Poppy makes it her mission to fix him. But as Poppy grows closer to her new college friends and spends more and more time away from home, she slowly begins to learn who exactly it is that she needs to focus on healing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Poppy**

Gates are always bigger when they’re opened up to an unfamiliar place. 

I felt like such an idiot. I’d been looking forward to this day ever since I received my acceptance letter from Greenwood University back in January. Now that I was actually here, though, everything that lay beyond the giant silver gates looked like an endless universe of obstacles waiting to swallow me whole. There had to be at least eight buildings cramped into one tiny corner of campus; how the hell would I ever find my way around this madhouse? The pink and black welcome banners strewn throughout the campus were probably made to make terrified freshmen like me feel more welcome. So why did their mere presence paint a huge target on my back? Like I was fresh meat, terrified fresh meat, and god dammit, every single person on this campus was going to know it. 

The thought sent more than a few chills down my spine, and I twisted my clammy fingers together to mimic the feeling of a comforting presence holding my hand. It didn’t help this time though. A bubble of anxiety inside of my chest swelled to the size of Jupiter; the immense pressure extended all the way to my stomach. It was almost enough to make me dry heave. I rolled down the left window of the backseat and hoped and prayed the sudden rush of cool, late summer air on my burning cheek would make my anxious hiccups subside.

I knew I’d be nervous on move-in day. Why wouldn’t I? But I never anticipated having a near panic attack in the backseat of my dad’s ratty green pick-up truck long before we even found my dorm. College was supposed to be a fresh start; this was  _ not  _ the first impression I’d been hoping to make. 

_ Don’t be such a narcissist, Poppy,  _ I chided myself.  _ No one is looking at you.  _

A short brunette girl wearing a white and hot pink Greenwood University t-shirt bounded up to the driver’s seat window. My dad rolled it down and beamed at her.

“Well, aren’t you just full of school spirit, young lady!” he exclaimed. “Though I must say, those are interesting school colors for a college named  _ Green _ wood!”

“Daaad,” I groaned, burying my face in my hand. My five-year-old half-sister, Lydia, laughed and mimicked my facepalm. I didn’t know why, but she’d taken to copying everything I did lately. I wished she wouldn’t. It wasn’t that I found it annoying, but Joan criticized everything I did, and I didn’t want Lydia to face that same wrath when she did everything Joan found fault with me for doing and I was no longer around to take her crap for it. 

The girl in the pink shirt laughed good-naturedly and pointed my dad in the right direction. He saluted her and rolled down the window. 

“I can’t believe it! My baby’s all grown up!” he exclaimed as he drove through the entrance onto the bustling campus.

“For God’s sake, Henry, do  _ not  _ call attention to us!” my stepmom Joan snapped. She folded her arms and glared out the window. 

Obviously she was still mad we didn’t take her shiny new convertible to campus. Why did she always have to be such a mood killer? It wasn’t like  _ she  _ was the one who would actually have a reputation to uphold around here. 

As my dad drove around the winding path inundated with wide-eyed freshmen to my dorm, I made plans for after move-in to try to calm myself down. I’d find Julian, my lifelong neighbor and childhood best friend who was living on the other side of the quad from me this year. He was one year older than me, and I hadn’t seen much of him since he started college, but I was hoping me being here would change that. Then I’d take a nap; hopefully my roommate would want to do the same. 

“Here we are!” my dad exclaimed as he parked the car in front of a stuffy brown building named Clement Hall. “Poppy’s palace for the next year.”

“You and I have very different ideas of a palace, Dad,” I said as I hopped out of the backseat. “Your taste could use some refining.”

He let out a yelp of mock offense. I rolled my eyes, and he laughed and bumped my shoulder with his own. 

Joan shook her head, somehow managing to gaze disapprovingly at both of us through the passenger seat mirror. She smoothed down her glossy jet-black hair and smeared on bright red lipstick into an impeccable heart that was  _ almost  _ enough to mask her perpetual pout. Almost.

“Are we gonna joke around or are we gonna get Poppy moved in? I’d like the rest of us to get home  _ today,  _ Henry.”

That’s rich coming from the woman who constantly makes us late by taking forever with her makeup.

“Poppy’s palace! Poppy’s palace!” Lydia squealed, clapping her hands together with delight.

Great, now she’d copy my dad, too. Joan tended to bite his head off for bestowing even the slightest bit of attention on me. 

“Aww, do you wanna help me move in, sweetie?” I asked her. I unbuckled her out of her booster seat and kissed her chestnut curls. 

I wouldn’t have had nearly as bad of an anxiety attack if I weren’t leaving Lydia behind. I loved her with all my heart, and I was worried for her. The last major change that had taken place in her life was when we had to have her change schools. She cried for a whole week and refused to leave her room, coming out only to use the bathroom and play outside. I had been the one to get her out of her room nine times out of ten. What was she going to do now that I would be gone? 

The thought of Lydia at home without me made my hands shake again, and I grabbed her tiny hand to steady myself. I tried to focus on the throb of warmth and love her little hand seemed to emanate into me as I slung one of my bags over my shoulder and the four of us made our way inside my dorm. 

Clement Hall, Julian had told me, was the smallest dorm at Greenwood. Yet somehow its worn brown stones seemed to extend all the way up into the heavens. But maybe that was just because I felt so small. 

As soon as I stepped inside, though, the tainted white walls threatened to close in on me. The chatter and people in the hall rang in my ears and flooded my vision. I began to feel dizzy again.

“Hi. What’s your name?” A male voice shook me out of my panic. I noticed a tall lanky guy with a pen tucked behind his ear standing in front of me.

“Poppy,” I answered. “Poppy Shields. I believe I’m in room 121?” 

I must have sounded so stupid. What kind of dumbass doesn’t know her own room? 

The guy reached for his pen on the wrong side of his head. After making a grab for the pen and coming up empty, he quickly snatched it from behind his other ear and began rummaging through notes on a clipboard. After frantically flipping through his papers for ten awkward seconds, he said, “Oh, yep! Follow me this way.” 

He led us to a dark brown door halfway down the right side of the hall and said, “There are other students downstairs if you need help moving your things in. Your roommate isn’t here yet, so it might be good for you to get a head start.” 

“Okay. Thanks,” I said. 

He began to rush back to the main entrance of the dorm, then stopped short and called over his shoulder, “Oh, and by the way, I’m Alistair, your RA. Call if you need anything!” 

He sprinted out of sight, no doubt back into the mob of freshmen. 

Lydia tugged at my sleeve. “I think he forgot to say hi to the rest of us,” she whispered not so quietly.

“Poor guy must be going out of his mind,” I replied, gesturing at the sea of students and parents all around us. I felt a little crazy myself.

Lydia skipped into my room, tugging me behind her. 

“Whoa, slow down!” I cried. “You’ll make me drop my bag.”

“Two whole beds!” Lydia exclaimed. “Which one’s yours?” 

I smiled at her. “Well, which side do you think I should take?”

“This one!” She tried to hop onto the bed on my right, but it was lofted too high for her to make it. She began to whimper, legs dangling from the bed.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I warned. I grabbed her by her waist and helped her down. 

“Lydia, come here,” said Joan sternly. “You’re in Poppy’s way.”

“No, really, she’s not,” I insisted. 

Joan cut me a sharp look. 

My dad stepped between us, clearing his throat. “Let’s get all this unpacking done, shall we?” 

“Fine,” huffed Joan. “Poppy, give me the bag with your bedsheets. God knows you can’t make your bed to save your life.”

“All right,” I said, feeling my shoulders droop a little. “But I’m hanging up the lights and pictures.”

“Lights! Pictures!” Lydia giggled. I grabbed a strand of pink string lights, and she did the same.

Joan got to work on my bed, yanking the sheets sharply into place with the expertise of a house cleaner with decades of experience. Back at our home in northern Vermont, chores were always her thing. She’d bite my head off if I ever even tried to help. And yet she’d yell at me for not helping my dad with groceries when I had a mountain of homework to do. Maybe I just needed to get better at sensing whether someone needed my help before jumping in.

I’d work on that this year. Being less selfish and all. 

An hour flew by. Joan micromanaged nearly every aspect of setting up my room, slapping my and my dad’s hands away whenever we tried to get a suggestion in edgewise. I’d wanted my dorm room to look as much like my room at home as possible, and I’d told both of them this, but Joan appeared to have suddenly been afflicted with selective amnesia. I didn’t get why she cared so much about my room. Usually at home, Lydia was the one she helped keep her room tidy. Whatever. I’d just kick them out once all my decorations were up. Contrary to popular Joan logic, I could fold and put away my own clothes. Or could I? Nothing ever seemed to fit right in my drawers.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Lydia whined. 

Joan waved her off as she picked a fight with my dad about where on the wall my tapestry should go.  _ My  _ tapestry.  _ My  _ fucking room. How ridiculous was that?!

Maybe Joan was right though. My room did get pretty messy at home. 

I put down the throw pillow I was holding and tried to manage a small smile. “Let me see if I can find something for you,” I said. 

As I rummaged in my green tote bag for a snack for Lydia, the door swung open, slamming against the wall. In the doorway stood a tall girl with platinum blonde hair and a caked-on face full of makeup. Her long eyelashes were like black feather dusters. She was wearing a tight green sundress and a necklace with what I was pretty sure was a twenty-carat emerald. My own tank top and shorts, which I had worn today to be comfortable for move-in, now seemed rather drab in comparison. 

The girl dragged three huge suitcases into the room, shoving them into the middle of the floor and blocking Joan’s way. I furtively inched the suitcases over to the other side of the room before Joan could snap at me for allowing the impediment. Luckily, the girl was too busy ordering around her parents—two middle-aged men dressed in crisp powder blue dress shirts and carrying two very full bins each—to notice that I had moved her suitcases.

“Makeup on the desk, Dad,” the girl commanded. “And Papa, I want my designer jeans on the bed. I’ll put my clothes away once you’re gone, since you guys never know where to put any of my stuff away.”

With a sniff, she breezed past me. I looked at her expectantly, but she paid no mind to me. 

I suppressed a huff and crossed over to her side of the room. “Um, Eden, right?”

“Oh...yeah,” she mumbled, finally sparing a glance in my direction. “And you’re Poppy? Do me a solid and stay on your side of the room until my dads and I get my side sorted out, okay?” 

Well...okay. Not what I was expecting in a roommate. I was hoping we would be at least somewhat...civil? 

Joan snapped, “Now you listen here, you little brat—”

“Mark Mayer! Eden’s dad!” the man carrying Eden’s makeup exclaimed, hoisting the bins onto Eden’s desk and rushing over to introduce himself to us. But the damage had been done. Joan had already embarrassed me in front of Eden.

Mark gave my dad a strong handshake, purposely ignoring Joan. He’d heard her. Joan crossed her arms and glared out the window. 

“Henry Shields,” my dad replied, giving Mark a polite nod. “And this is my darling angel Poppy.” He ruffled my ponytail.

“Dad!” I protested. I knew I would miss him, though.

“Great to meet you, too, sweetheart,” said Mark. “Eden told me and my husband Colin that you’ve been texting every day!”

Yeah, and she had seemed  _ way  _ friendlier over text. That checked out, considering that she now had her nose in her phone. Her thumbs flurried at lightning speed as Colin began to unpack her school supplies, taking yet more orders from her whenever she could be bothered to look up from her phone. 

For another excruciating forty minutes, Joan and Mark jostled and glared at each other as they flitted about the tiny dorm room, my dad rearranged stuff the way it looked like in my room at home whenever Joan wasn’t looking, and I hung up the rest of my pictures. 

The moment of farewells came way too late and all too soon at the same time. I was eager to be rid of Joan after she embarrassed me in front of my new roommate, but I didn’t want my dad or Lydia to go. 

“I’ll miss you, Dad,” I sniffled into his jacket as he hugged me, trying to hide my tears from the rest of the world. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too, baby,” he said. His voice broke a little at the end of his sentence.

For a moment we stood there in the parking lot, my arms around his middle and one of his hands on my head, just like when I was Lydia’s age and he comforted me after I hurt myself playing outside. 

When I unwillingly let go of my dad, Joan swooped in and grabbed me by the shoulders. She made a big show of planting a kiss on each of my cheeks, which she always said was a more sophisticated goodbye. I gave her two reluctant air kisses back. 

Lydia looked from her to my dad to me. She seemed to notice how unlike Joan and my dad, I was standing near the dorm and not the car. Sadness and understanding passed over her little face like a dark cloud. 

“Is it time?” she asked. 

My dad nodded with glassy eyes. “Yes, sweetheart. Time to go home.”

“No...Poppy!” Lydia burst into tears. 

“Oh, sweetie,” I cried. I opened my arms, and she flew into them. 

“For God’s sake, Poppy, are you in college or are you five like your sister?” Joan snapped. “Do you want any of your peers to see you blubbering like a baby?”

I let go of Lydia, ashamed. 

My dad, on the other hand, was unreadable. He put his arm around Joan and steered her towards the car. 

“While those two are saying their goodbyes, I think we’d better talk,” he said through his teeth.

He and Joan disappeared into the car. 

Uh-oh. 

I turned my attention back to Lydia, trying not to think about what was happening in the car. “I’ll be home next month,” I reassured her. “I’m not going away forever. I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Will you call?” she asked between sobs.

I wiped her tears. “Every night, if you want. Before your bath.”

She stopped crying. “Okay.”

I wish feelings were still that easy. 

I took Lydia’s hand. “Come on, I’ll buckle you in one last time.” 

When I opened the backseat door, I sensed a tension in the car that wasn’t there before. Joan was no longer glaring out the window but at my dad. He fiddled with the GPS on his phone, looking pointedly anywhere but at Joan. 

Oh, hell no. Not again. I couldn’t leave Lydia in this mess!

Seeing no other option, though, I bit back a sigh and strapped her into her car seat. She laughed like a maniac and grabbed at my hair like she always did. I paid no mind to her pulling on my hair like reins on a horse. Usually we made a game of this, but how could I even think about playing a game when strapping her into her seat felt like strapping her into an electric chair of parent drama? 

“Is everything okay?” Lydia asked in a little voice that slashed my heart right in two. 

“Yes,” I said with a smile that I hoped didn’t betray any hint of the panic attack I could feel coming on. “Everything’s fine.”

“You’ll call us when you get settled in?” my dad asked. 

“Only if I’m not partying,” I joked. Joan scoffed. 

“We love you, Poppy,” my dad said as he started the car. “Never forget that.”

I kissed Lydia’s forehead one last time before climbing out of the car. I watched it leave the parking lot and get smaller and smaller until it became a tiny green dot in the distance. It went through the huge gate and disappeared into the vast world outside of the campus. 

I was all alone. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Jeremy**

“Well, it looks like this is it, son,” said my dad as he finished securing my headboard into place behind my dorm bed. “Do you need help with anything else?” 

I gave the constricted space inside the four off-white walls a quick once-over. The half a room that would be my designated space for the school year was much smaller than what I had at home, but all my belongings seemed to be in their proper places. 

I shook my head. “Thanks, Dad, but I think that’ll be all. I can manage putting my clothes away.” 

By the foot of my bed, my mom scoffed. “Your underwear strewn all over your room at home would indicate otherwise,” she joked. 

“Oh, you’ll miss me and my messes.” I crossed my new room and pulled my mom into a hug. She resisted at first, but her grunts gave way to begrudging chuckles, and she eventually relented. My new roommate, Isaiah, a short, beefy guy with dark brown hair in a buzz cut, looked away from the poster he was hanging up and smiled too. 

My dad wiped the sweat from his forehead and wrapped his arms around both of us. “Come on, bring it in, you two.”

I snuck a glance at Isaiah as if to say  _ I’m sorry.  _ He shrugged good-naturedly and busied himself organizing his desk. My parents weren’t really big huggers. But apparently when there were other people around they were. 

Whatever. I was just grateful for the affection. 

When our hug broke apart, my mom asked my dad, “If Jeremy doesn’t need anything else, shall we go, Scott?”

My dad held the door open for my mom. “After you, Linda.”

After they were gone, Isaiah looked at me with a grin and said, “Finally.”

He hopped off his bed and disappeared under it, only to resurface a moment later with two cans of beer. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he offered one to me. 

“From my older brother,” he said. “He’s a senior in an off-campus house.”

“Hey, thanks, man,” I said. We cracked our cans open and clinked them together. I didn’t have alcohol on me. I knew it wasn’t allowed. But one drink wouldn’t hurt. Besides, I wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to socialize with the guy I would be sharing a room with for the next year. 

Isaiah took a long swig of his beer before saying to me, “You got lucky. I thought my parents would never stop hugging me goodbye.”

I laughed. “Funny. I wouldn’t mind that.” 

We chatted, each of us propped up against our high-lofted beds. We drank our beers. I learned that Isaiah was an engineering major from Denver, Colorado, and that he liked hiking in the mountains. I told him that I was a math major from the humble state of Rhode Island who was just hoping to find a niche here that would appreciate all I had to offer. Our perfunctory interaction was superficial, but nonetheless chill. We’d get along just fine as roommates. 

The conversation lasted just long enough for him to like me. That was what was important when you were living with someone, right? As soon as it was clear that he thought I was a pretty cool person and he wasn’t one of those asshole roommates who would have me written up for simply existing, I tossed my empty beer can in the trash and said, “Hey, Isaiah, it’s been great getting to know you, but I think I’m gonna go for a walk. I wanna figure out where my classes are so I don’t get lost on my way there or something.”

The truth? I just wanted to go make more friends. I was anxious to branch out to more people than the one guy who had been randomly forced to sleep in the same room as me. Obviously, I wouldn’t tell that to said guy. To my relief, Isaiah accepted my explanation with a nod before slinking under his bed to retrieve another beer. 

I meandered through the second floor of Clement Hall, contemplating knocking on every door to establish some rapport with my floormates. For once, though, I didn’t have to make the first move. A redheaded guy burst out of room 203 and clapped me painfully on the shoulder. 

“What’s goooooood?” he drawled, staggering toward the bathroom. “I’m Andrew, and my roommate Oliver and his girlfriend Kelly are inside, probably making out now that I’m gone. Feel free to pop into my room if you wanna—hold on, I gotta go!” He clamped his hand over his mouth and sprinted into the bathroom. Before the door even closed all the way, I heard a loud, exaggerated gag, followed by the sound of a viscous liquid splattering all over the floor.

Okay, so maybe not. I didn’t understand people who thought this was what college was all about. What about the sixty grand on classes and housing, among other things? My parents would kill me if I let all that go right down the toilet. 

The various genres of music blaring from each room all twisted together into a dissonant cacophony that burrowed its unwelcome way into my ears, punctuated by the odd shrill squeal for good measure. Was there anyone on this floor who wasn’t already wasted? For god’s sake, it was only four in the afternoon, people!

I passed several more rooms before I finally reached one that didn’t have music blaring from it. Hearing that room 207 sounded fairly quiet, I knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” said a baby-sweet voice. 

I opened the door to see a petite girl with long, light brown hair in a white sundress sitting at her desk. Her eyebrows furrowed, inching toward each other like little worms as she meticulously cut shapes out of colorful construction paper. They looked like the ones stuck on my door with my and Isaiah’s names on them. After an awkward, silent moment of me standing in the doorway unheeded, she finally tore her eyes from her task to look quizzically at me. 

“Can I help you?” she asked. 

What was she, the dorm secretary?

“Um, no,” I said awkwardly. “Just wanted to say hi.”

Before she could answer, or maybe tell me to leave her alone, I shut the door. That was when I noticed the  _ RA Hadley  _ sign in red Sharpie block letters.

Oh. Oops. 

Couldn’t she have at least made it more obvious that she was an RA, though? I mean, I didn’t even notice that drab sign when I knocked on her door before.  I supposed I could have told her that freshmen were already partying in the dorm. It would be the right thing to do. But on the other hand, I didn’t want to make enemies. 

After taking a quick walk down the hall and realizing that every room was already bumping with loud music and uproarious laughter, I decided to give up on socializing for the day. Clearly, everyone was already drunk and wouldn’t remember me later. Sucked. Those weren’t the kind of people I had hoped to meet. 

As cliché as it was, the one thing I really wanted from my first year of college was to fall in love. That was my lifelong struggle. All throughout middle school, I was the only boy in my friend group who never got picked by any girls at dances. The one friend who was an only child and didn’t have an older sibling to come to my rescue when it was my turn to be made fun of. The only one in our group of five who missed out on the rite of passage of taking a girl to the stupid dilapidated brown gazebo in the woods behind the gym for an awkward, poorly-executed first kiss. 

Middle school was awful. Everyone teased me, even my own friends. And part of me still couldn’t blame them. A four foot six, shrimpy boy with stick arms and big bony knobs for knees was an easy target when you were battling the raging waves of frustration and hormones during early puberty. Almost too easy of a target, if you asked me. 

Physically, eighth grade me and current me were galaxies apart. The universe took its sweet time in terms of making me grow up, though; throughout most of high school I remained the shrimpy little boy who still looked like he belonged somewhere on an elementary school playground. But two years ago, when I was on the cusp of my seventeenth birthday, my frail little arms and legs damn near doubled in size. I still remember the awe on my parents’ faces as they watched my scrawny limbs all but blossom into tree trunks and I reached a mighty six foot three in just under two years. It was as if growth had lain dormant in my knobby knees my whole life, just waiting for the right moment to make its presence known. The cornsilk blond hair of my youth darkened into the golden medium-length locks I was now sporting today. My torso and chest broadened out, and my round baby face at long last hardened into that of a young man. Even my doctor had been shocked when I went for my pre-college shots and physical. I still didn’t know if it was because such extreme growth was rare, or because I had been a tiny kid for so long that everyone thought I would always be that way. 

The lightning-speed changes in my appearance didn’t improve my social life all that much, though. I was still awkward as ever, maybe even more so during the embarrassing voice transition that lasted well into my senior year of high school. Sure, girls finally liked me, but it never made me feel any better like I thought it would. Instead, I felt like a piece of meat whose only redeeming qualities were my deep, booming voice—when it had finally stopped vacillating between childhood and adulthood—and the fact that the tallest girl in our class could rest her head on my bulky chest at graduation without wearing heels. Why hadn’t anyone seen me for  _ me?  _ I wasn’t a bragger, but I had no shortage of good traits, among which I did not, in fact, consider my looks to be included. I got good grades. I helped my parents out around the house, driving two hours to pick up the exact baking ingredients my mom wanted when I had to. I was deeply involved in choir and band and a star performer in both. I was a well-rounded person, and no one cared.

I’d come to campus this morning in the hopes that maybe college students would be different. Maybe today would be a fresh start. But now, judging by the unceremonious reception I had received from basically my entire inebriated floor, I wasn’t so sure that would be the case after all. 

It didn’t matter, though. This was the first day of four years here. I had lots of time. The best thing to do was to not sweat it and to wait for the right people to come along. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Poppy  
I didn’t know why I was sweating bullets, why my heart was throbbing its way out of my chest. I should have felt immense relief once my family had gone; I had never been more glad to be rid of Joan. But now Lydia and Dad were gone, too. Plus in this moment of terrifying cluelessness and a little bit of shock, even Joan’s guidance, if somewhat overbearing, would have been preferable to feeling completely and utterly lost.   
What was I to do now? My family was gone. Home was...not here. Home was now my cramped half of a tiny shoebox room, whose other half was no doubt completely covered with Eden’s things by now.   
I didn’t want to go back there. I didn’t want to face the reality that, for the next year, I would have to share my only safe haven with a girl who already hated me for no reason. But I’d texted Julian just after my family had left, and he had said he was still at the gym and would meet me after he was done.   
So I had no choice. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to go back inside Clement Hall.   
On my way back to my dorm, I felt my balance begin to waver. I looked down and noticed my legs quivering like a frightened six-year-old alone in a haunted house. They hadn’t shaken this hard since I’d asked Julian to my junior prom. He’d said yes. I hadn’t talked to him much after his graduation, though. But maybe now that we were at the same college, there was hope for us yet. And at the very least he could show me around this monstrosity of a campus.   
Quiet as a mouse, I tiptoed into my room to see Eden at her desk, fixing her makeup and now wearing a sparkly silver midriff top and denim miniskirt that was so tight I thought it might split. When she saw my reflection in her mirror, she turned to fix a venomous gaze on me.   
“Your mom is such a bitch,” she snapped. “Did you hear how she talked to me?”  
Wonderful. Not only had Joan embarrassed me in front of Eden, she’d also made her hate me even more. Considering Eden’s frosty reception of me when I’d merely tried to make her aware of my existence, I wasn’t sure if that was possible. Clearly, it was.  
Eden’s glare froze me into my spot, and nervous energy building up in my legs screamed at me to be anywhere besides my room. But I knew I owed her an explanation for Joan's treatment of her, so I forced myself to stammer a very articulate, “Y-yeah, I’m sorry. And she’s my stepmom. She’s...not my favorite person either. B-but she’s good! Y-you know, deep down.”  
Real smooth, Poppy.   
Eden blew her bangs upward. “Whatever. You vape?”   
She offered me a complicated-looking black contraption that upon closer examination I realized was a vape pen. I’d seen Julian’s friends use them a few times, but I didn’t smoke.  
“Um, no thanks,” I said.   
She shrugged and took a huge hit from it, blowing torrents of mint-scented smoke into the air. My eyes began to water. As the noxious, artificial aroma infiltrated my airways, I swallowed hard to keep from coughing because I knew Eden would laugh. The angel on my shoulder told me I should probably protest before she got caught with it and tried to blame it on me, but the spineless devil on my other shoulder decided it wasn’t worth it. Like Eden would care what I said. She obviously had no consideration for me. Her side of the room was cluttered with so much crap that our room would never look clean no matter how much she tidied up, and there was already a mountain of rejected outfits overflowing onto my side.   
“Anyway,” said Eden, “I’ll need the room in five. I have a...date with Ayla from down the hall.” She raised an eyebrow suggestively.  
So that was why she was all primped up.   
My heart raced and my palms became moist with sweat as a million different things I could say swirled around in my head. None of them seemed to be the right thing. I really wanted to just curl up on my bed—as stiff as it looked—and drift into the oblivion of unconsciousness until the semester was over. But a ball of anxious tension deep in my gut told me not to say no to this girl. It was an inevitable win-lose situation, and I was the hapless loser.  
“Well, okay,” I acquiesced. “But do you think you could text me when you’re done? I could really use a nap.”  
Eden laughed, a hissing, snakelike sound. “Girl, I have no idea when we’ll be done. Depends on how good she is in bed. Also, you just got to college, the most exciting four years of freedom you’ll ever have in your life, and you want to nap? Give me a break. Go on, go out and have some drinks or something.”  
And with that, she put a hand on my shoulder, giving me a little shove towards the door. I shook her hand off of me and turned around.  
“Do not push me again,” I warned. I tried to look just a little menacing, I really did, but she towered over my skinny five foot two frame and just smirked.   
“See you around,” she said, then promptly shut the door in my face.   
College is off to a great start.   
A whole year getting pushed around and kicked out of my own room. A whole year of being fresh meat. A whole year—no, four years—of worrying about Lydia at home without me. I was never going to be able to do this!  
“Oh god, oh god…” I muttered as I paced back and forth on the floor outside of my room, picking my cuticles to shreds. As if my fingers weren’t raw and red enough. The hustle and bustle of freshmen all around me made me dizzy. I stared at the wall, but it spun out of control too. My stomach began to churn again. It was only when I needed the bathroom right that second that I realized I didn’t even know where the bathroom was.   
“Shit, shit, shit!” I exclaimed.   
“Hey, what’s wrong?” a guy I’d never seen before asked as he came into my view. I didn’t see where he came from, but it didn’t matter. I needed someone to talk to now.   
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I cried.   
The guy stepped in front of me and bent down to my level. He asked in a soft, even voice, “Are you having a panic attack?”  
I nodded wordlessly.   
“I get them too,” he said. He took my hand and rubbed it in slow, soothing circles.  
His touch was like a shot of tranquilizer being pumped into my blood. My stomach began to settle. I no longer felt like I was on the verge of throwing up.   
“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” the guy said.   
He was huge; he had to be over six feet tall, but still I felt calm in his presence. Some of the tension drifted out of my shoulders.  
“This is normal,” he continued. “Being in a new place is scary.”   
My heart stopped racing. The dizziness subsided enough for me to look him in the eyes, which were the color of forget-me-nots. They looked like big blue gemstones. His lips curved upward into a sweet, patient smile. Golden hair swept every which way around his face, framing it. His expression beckoned me to stay, to build a connection with the person who had saved me from my own mind.   
“Are you better now?” he asked, giving my hand a little squeeze.  
“I...I don’t know what to say,” I murmured. “No one’s ever done that for me before. Thank you.”  
He released my hand and dove gracefully into a grandiose bow. “Jeremy Hansen, at your service,” he joked. “And you are?”  
I laughed. “My name’s Poppy.”  
“And what a fitting name it is. You’re as pretty as a flower, aren’t you?”  
Oh my god, was he actually flirting with me? And here I was thinking my anxiety had already ruined my reputation here.   
“What do you say we hang out tonight, get to know each other better?” Jeremy asked. His eyes were sweet and hopeful. I could hardly believe my luck.  
“Sure!” I chirped. “But maybe later? I’m supposed to meet a friend now.”  
“Not a problem. Give me your number?”  
We swapped phones, and when the exchange was done, Jeremy gave me a wink and a salute before disappearing down the hall.   
“Hey, Pop!” Julian called from the dorm entrance. At the sound of his voice, I ran down the hall to greet him.   
“Julian!” I exclaimed. We did our secret handshake—thumb wrestling, elbow bumps, and a spin— that we made up when we were six before he enveloped me in a bear hug.   
“It’s been way too long!” he cried. He squeezed me so hard my feet came up off of the ground. He’d done this at prom, and at his graduation, too.   
Indeed it had been a long time. He had cut his once long dark brown hair and gelled the front up into spikes. He’d traded his Batman hoodie for black jeans and a white Greenwood sweatshirt. And he was no longer wearing the nerdy glasses that were so quintessentially high school Julian Quimby.   
“Did you get contacts?” I asked.   
“Yeah, they’ve literally saved my life! Well, except for when I’m drunk and I forget to take them out.”   
Drunk? Since when did Julian get drunk?  
Julian jerked his chin in the direction Jeremy had gone. “Anyway, who was that?”  
“His name’s Jeremy,” I said. “He saw me freaking out in the hall and stopped me from having a panic attack. Held my hand and all. It was incredible.”  
“Aw, man, don’t tell me you have a boyfriend already!” Julian groaned, laying a hand theatrically across his forehead as if he were about to faint at the news.   
“No, no, not at all!” I exclaimed, but I felt my face getting hot, and I couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.   
“Oh, my god, Pop. You are so taken with him.”  
“What do you want? I’m away at college after eighteen years cooped up in the same small town!”  
“Well, don’t be too quick to go after the first thing that comes by.”  
“Since when do you care about that? You were always the one trying to find me a date to every high school function before we went to prom together.”  
Julian shrugged. “I’m just reminding you that you have options. There’s plenty of us on campus.”   
Did he just say us? Was there still a possibility of something between me and him? I wasn’t sure, for we hadn’t spoken much after his graduation. But still, he’d been adamant about hanging out with me after move-in as soon as I’d told him I was going to Greenwood like him.   
“Want to go for a walk?” Julian asked. “I can give you a campus tour.”   
I nodded. A walk sounded good. The rush of fresh air on my cheek never failed to stave off any oncoming anxiety. And even though I was with Julian, who had known me longer than anyone else besides my dad, I still had plenty to worry about. Eden was still a force—a snotty, unreasonable, sublimely dressed force—to be reckoned with, and now I had to make sure I didn’t completely and utterly fuck myself over by blowing it on my first date with Jeremy and really my first date ever. Julian and I had gone to a late movie after prom, but he hadn’t reached across the armrest to hold my hand, hadn’t said goodbye to me with anything more than a kiss on my hand when he’d dropped me off. As a junior in high school, I had been over the moon that night. But now, as a college student ready to finally see the world, to finally make the meaningful connections my life had been nearly devoid of for so long, I wanted more.   
Julian led me through Greenwood’s vast campus. I had never felt smaller in my life. Each classroom building was three times the size of my dorm. There were more places I could get lost than there were clear paths. I was absolutely dwarfed by the campus library, which was made of faded red bricks and bigger than my entire high school.   
“This is, like, the spot to do homework,” Julian told me. “Come on, I’ll show you inside.”   
When I first walked inside the library, I was met with a deafening silence. It seemed like every single person in the room was staring at me, as if they knew I was a newcomer no one asked for getting a campus tour from a seasoned sophomore.   
That’s ridiculous, Poppy, I chided myself. When are you ever going to learn that not everything is about you?  
Julian tugged on my arm and eagerly pulled me up the huge, winding staircase covered in baby blue carpeting. He led me to a tiny round table in the corner, where he plopped down into one of the plush spinny chairs, patting the one next to him to signal to me to join him.   
I slid into the seat next to him. The gray cushion was so soft it enveloped my body like a venus flytrap. I was so comfortable I didn’t know how I’d ever bring myself to stand up.   
“This is certainly a step up from the second-grade sized plastic chairs in Mr. Mancini’s chemistry class!” I giggled, trying to keep my voice quiet.   
Julian rolled his eyes all the way into his head. “Hated that guy. He always teased me for having ‘chemistry’ with Lara Voigt just because we shared a periodic table once. Once! Which, by the way, was so not the case.”  
“He did always tend to be short on supplies.” I grimaced at the unwelcome memory of having to do an entire experiment with Max Hunter, a notorious cheater who later gracefully resigned from studenthood after getting caught buying SAT answers two months into senior year.  
“And here we are now, with all of that long past us,” Julian said. “Who would have known we’d end up at the same college?”   
“I know. I’m a little nostalgic, but mostly so happy to be here. With you.”  
Julian smiled at me. The impish curvature of his thin lips was a welcome familiar sight that I had sorely missed ever since he left for college last year. For the first time since I arrived at campus, I finally felt grounded. Maybe even like I belonged here.   
“Ju-Ju! What’s good?” came a booming male voice.   
I looked over Julian’s shoulder to see two guys ambling toward our table, both with short bleached hair and identical oval faces and lanky frames. When they reached us, they surrounded Julian and clapped him on the shoulders, one on each side.   
“Kyle! Caleb!” Julian exclaimed. “It’s been a while.”   
Oh. So these were the twins Julian often talked about.  
“You ready to go to the soccer game?” one of them asked.  
“Hell yeah I am. Text me if you have trouble getting back to Clement, Poppy.”  
“Oh,” I said. “I thought we were going to—”  
The other twin cut me off. “What? No way! She’s coming with us!” he insisted.   
Julian waved his hands dismissively. “She and I can finish catching up later. I’ve gotta get the booze from my room first anyway.”  
He and the twins whisked away before I could protest. I deflated like a balloon that had been pierced by a hundred tiny pinpricks. This was the first time I’d seen Julian in a year; he had spent the past summer abroad in Spain. He’d been busy. I figured that now he was just a busy sophomore, who had second-year student obligations I did not.   
I’d understand next year, when I was older. At least, that’s what Joan always said. I was an adult now, and I had to start acting like one. It was time to buck up and deal. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Author’s note: Before I begin, I just want to say that I’m aware Jeremy is repeating some information about his past that we’ve already learned in chapter two. I will be taking it out and heavily editing chapter two, as I think here is a better place for it, but for now I just wanted to get this next chapter posted.**

**Jeremy**

I stopped at the on-campus bookstore a few hours later, hoping to find something to help cheer Poppy up. I’d gotten her text ten minutes ago. It was absolutely unacceptable what her so-called guy friend had done. Ditching her in the middle of the library to go get lit with some friends? Rude. Leaving her to walk back by herself on her first day at a strange school? Unbelievable. 

At least  _ some  _ of us on this campus had been raised right. After a quick look around the bookstore, I bought one bag of every kind of candy there was, explaining to the confused cashier that it was for a special friend. Stuffed shopping bags in hand, I made my way across campus to Poppy’s room. Once I reached her door, I knocked, hoping my knocks sounded confident. Almost instantly, the door opened, revealing Poppy in the same clothes she had on earlier. The blue tank top hugged her wiry figure nicely and was in striking contrast with her waist-length strawberry blonde waves. It was cool to see a girl who wasn’t already in a party dress by seven at night. And judging by her wide emerald eyes, she was just as happy to see me.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her mouth dropping in surprise when she saw the bags. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

“But why?”

I winked, hoping it didn’t look staged. “Figured I’d need a lot of snacks to last us for the amount of time I want to spend getting to know you.”

She said nothing back. She simply stared at me as her eyes glossed over with some kind of strange emotion. I braced myself, waiting for her to slam the door in my face. When she didn’t, we gawked at one another like nervous idiots. The awkward silence that dragged on between us was palpable. I suspected from how flustered she was that she was new to this flirting business. Worked for me; I didn’t exactly have a silver tongue myself. 

She finally spoke. “It’s just…” she trailed off.

“Just what?”

“No one has ever done anything like this for me before. My stepmom says most people won’t bother.”

Ahhhh.

That made sense now. The poor girl had probably never been shown love in her life. I knew that feeling from middle school. And I planned on spending the rest of my day showing her how she deserved so much more than that. From here on out, she had a friend in me no matter what. We rejects had to stick together. 

“Well, um, come in, I guess!” said Poppy. 

I obliged with a grin. Even without a mirror I could feel how stupidly wide it was. Being nice was so much better when it was actually appreciated. 

I heaved the bags onto her desk. Poppy eagerly began rummaging through one of them, coming up with a family-sized bag of mini chocolate bars. 

“My favorite!” she exclaimed. She tore into the package like it was a Christmas gift she had been waiting for all year. I laughed.

A hefty dose or two of candy later, Poppy and I were still sitting cross-legged on her side of the room, talking about everything. Her beach outings with her little half-sister Lydia by their home in Bar Harbor, Maine, my awkwardness in high school, our shared hatred for cliques and experiences growing up with few friends. 

“I know, right?” said Poppy as we commiserated about middle school dances. “So overrated. It seemed like their only purpose was to  _ remind  _ you that you had no friends.”

“I had friends,” I said quickly, not wanting her to think I was a total loser. “They just...picked on me. Because I used to be so short.”

“And they didn’t?” Poppy was indignant, which somehow made me like her even more. 

“Well, yes, they used to be short too, before middle school. That was when they started calling me names and leaving me out of games.”

“Immature brats. It’s not like you actually got to choose how fast you grew up!”

“Tell me about it! I was kind of a late bloomer. I didn’t start developing until I was almost seventeen.”

“Did the bullying stop then?”

“I mean, yeah. But then the only reason girls liked me was because of my height.”

“I’m so sorry, Jeremy.” She placed a hand on my arm, and I froze. I knew it was ridiculous and impossible, but this simple gesture seemed to emanate some kind of healing power into me. I wondered if this was what a connection felt like. 

Poppy said, “I think I know how you feel. I was pretty much invisible just because I was so quiet. It sucks. It’s like you exist, but you don’t belong.”

Someone finally understood. I was relieved I wasn’t the only person at this college to have lived through the hell that was social isolation, considering everyone else was already so buddy-buddy. There was just something about Poppy that intrigued me. Unlike with Isaiah, I never felt that I had to keep score, where I said something, and then he said something. Instead, I found that I would rather hear more about Poppy than talk about myself. I figured if she wanted to know something, she would just ask. 

As I was contemplating what to talk about next, a futuristic-sounding ringtone filled the room. Poppy sprung to her feet, snatched her phone off of her bed, and gave me an apologetic smile. 

“I’ve got to take this,” she said. “It’s Lydia.”

I stood up, too, and moved closer to her. “No problem. Actually, put her on speaker. I want to say hi to her, too.”

Poppy’s face broke out into a huge smile, and she obliged. As she exchanged gleeful hellos with her little half-sister, I faded into the background, stomach clenching at the corner I had just backed myself into. Kids made me wicked uncomfortable, but I wanted to make it up to Poppy for my awkwardness. Besides, it was only over the phone. I’d survive.

“Lydia,” said Poppy, her voice even sweeter than when she was talking normally, “my new friend Jeremy wants to say hi to you!”

“Is he nice?” Lydia’s little voice came from the other end. 

“Of course, silly! Come on, now, don’t be shy.”

“Well, okay. Hi, Jemmy!”

Poppy burst into giggles as she held her phone out to me. The sound of her laughter filled my chest with fondness, and for a moment I forgot what I was supposed to be doing.

“Say hi back!” urged Poppy, snapping me out of my trance.

“O-oh, right.” I cleared my throat. “Hi there, Lydia.”

Poppy continued her conversation with Lydia. I watched her, hoping my discomfort wasn’t obvious. She clearly loved her half-sister, which was adorable. I felt a pang of jealousy, and even a little resentment. I had always hated being an only child, and this was supposed to be my time with Poppy, the one girl at college who just got me. Instead, I felt like I didn’t belong. 

Poppy must have sensed that I felt out of place, for she glanced at me and said, “Hey, Lydia, sweetheart, can I call you again tomorrow?”

“Do you have to go?” was Lydia’s woeful response. 

Poppy glanced at the time on her phone. “It’s almost your bedtime.”

“Mommy hasn’t even given me my bath yet. She and Daddy are still fighting.”

At that, Poppy went as white as a sheet. Her hand started shaking around her phone, and she looked at me like a deer in the headlights. Instinctively, I put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to be of some comfort.

“Lydia, I really do need to go,” she said, her voice now strained. “But I’ll call you again tomorrow. Pinky promise. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you. Bye,” said Lydia.

“Love you too, sweetie,” said Poppy before ending the call. She buried her head in her hands.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I feel bad for hanging up on Lydia, but I didn’t want her to notice I was upset. I knew this would happen.”

“What?”

Poppy looked up at me, conflict and longing flickering across her face. It seemed as if she wanted to share something with me, but was afraid to. For a second, I thought I’d blown it. But then she said, “If I tell you, will you promise not to repeat it to anyone?”

I took her hand. “Of course, Poppy. It’s safe with me.”

She smiled, her cheeks blushing at the contact. Even when anxious, she was adorable.

“You know, this is crazy,” she said. “I know I, like, just met you, but I feel like I can already tell you things.”

I patted her hand with my free one. “I feel the connection too.” 

Poppy took a deep breath. “So,” she began, “my stepmom Joan isn’t always the nicest person. She criticizes me all the time, and she and my dad get into fights about it. He thinks she’s too hard on me. I was worried that they’d still fight about me even when I was gone, and Lydia would have to deal with it all by herself. It’s my first night away, and I can already see that I was right.”

“God, what an awful mess. Does your real mom know?”

Poppy sucked in a sharp breath and turned away from me. I hung back, desperately wanting to know if I’d said something wrong, but not wanting to pry. I thought I saw her shoulders shake, but in an instant she pulled herself back together to face me, her eyes glistening slightly.

“She died giving birth to me,” she said in a low voice. “Infection.”

“Oh no. Poppy, I’m so sorry. I can understand why you want to keep this private.”

It also made sense that Poppy and nearly everyone who knew her back home characterized her as quiet. She was in pain. But I was pretty sure analyzing a girl’s past to her face wasn’t how you got more time with her, so I kept my mouth shut. 

Poppy explained, “I asked you not to tell anyone because I can’t have people getting the wrong impression about Joan. For some reason, I can never talk about her back home without someone being concerned that she’s mistreating me. God knows what she would do if she thought I was spreading rumors about her.”

Now I was the one who was indignant. Poppy shouldn’t have to keep quiet if things were unfair! Joan sounded like a psycho. I wanted so badly to give that bitch a piece of my mind.

Not wanting to anger Poppy by insulting her family, instead I said, “Do  _ you  _ think Joan is too hard on you?”

Poppy looked at the ground, ashamed. “Honestly, no. I’m just too sensitive. That’s why I don’t tell people. It wouldn’t be fair for me to make her look bad like that.”

So much for fair. Nothing in this whole fucking world was fair. If things were fair her real mom wouldn’t have died. If things were fair her dad never would have gotten remarried to that old hag Joan.

Fighting the anger out of my voice, I said, “Well, from now on, you can tell me.”

Poppy gave me her sweetest smile yet. “Thank you.”

I offered my arms to her, and she eagerly fell into my embrace. Her long strawberry blonde hair was soft against my chest, her thin arms tenderly enfolding my waist. As we stood pressed against each other, I felt her shakes subside, and kissed the top of her head. I could have stayed like this forever.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
